The Auto Biography of Kenneth McCormick
by Mr. Pirrup
Summary: A full account of Kenny's life from his birth to...his final death. See him at the highest and lowest points of this ungodly thing called life.
1. Chapter 1: Birth

Kenny has always been my favorite character in South Park and after watching three of the episode that had Mysterion in them I decided to write this. Hope you like.

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******The Auto Biography of Kenneth McCormick**

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Chapter 1: Birth

Hey. I'm Kenny, but you already know that. Anyway, this is an account of my life, from my first breath to my death…naw I'm just kidding. This begins with my birth and may never end because I can't stay dead, no matter how much I wish I could.

So... thanks to my mother, who is much saner then my father but not by much, told me of my birth.

My mother was sixteen when she had me, my father was seventeen. At the time of my mother being pregnant with me she had already had a child, Kevin who was two at the time. But Kevin isn't important right now.

So well my mother was pregnant with me, she and my father were in the cult of Cthulhu, boy was dealing with that guy annoying. I would come to fight the real breathing Cthulhu at a later point in my life, and boy was it annoying the first time.

So anyway, the cult leader, who's name I never learned, offered my mother about five months' worth of beer if he was allowed to try and channel the demon spirit of Cthulhu through her unborn baby AKA me. Two things sadden me about this, one that my mother was still drinking well pregnant, that might explain why I'm so…_different _as I like to say. And the second thing that saddened me was that she said yes.

From what my mother told me, the cult leader drew some messed up symbols on my mother's belly. These symbols where blood, or so I've been told. Five other cultists chanted a dead, evil language from the cults messed up bible, the Necronomicon.

My mother told me it burned. Burned like something…unholy. The pain was so bad that she cried, in turn she didn't cry when she was giving birth to me, she didn't cry when my sister was born either. The burning was _very _painful.

The cult leader smiled at my mother in that douchebag way that he smiled at me ten years later.

Sorry getting off topic… the cult leader told my mother that he'd have to see the child once it was born.

My mother told me that she had nightmares after this event, nightmare about what might happen to her child. Five months later just as she had ran out of booze, I was born.

From what I'm told, I was silent baby when I was born. I shed no tears and cried not once.

I was taken home and lived the lifestyle of a redneck child. Nothing much interesting happened in my early years, I learned to walk, talk, and potty at a normal rate.

One thing that might have made me different was the fact that there was Playboy magazines all over the house, and even if my mother or father saw me reading them they didn't take them away and say this is big people stuff, they'd just let me look at the wrong images. Might be why I'm just a perv.

So finally we arrive at something I can remember, it was when I was two. My mother was reluctant to let the cult leader see me on account of the fact that she and my father had gone to jail because of simply being in the cult.

But she let him in.

The 'tests' where stupid, so so stupid. He threw a brick at me for god's sake, that was simply to see if I felt pain like a mortal, and one thing I can tell you is this, I sure as hell do.

Luckily the brick didn't kill me, it did break a couple of bones, as they were very weak. Don't worry; I kind of balanced it out because I drank an odd amount of milk.

Anyways, he tested to see how I reacted to death, by killing my pet dog. I cried like, well, a two year old. After more stupid tests he finally decided that I was no different than any other baby in South Park. Boy was he wrong.

You know, I feel as if I should drag this out much longer, but you know births aren't long, well… long to write is better to say.

What the cult leader didn't know was that I was slightly different, even when not counting my curse. The following day my broken bones were fixed and I was toddling along like a toddler.


	2. Chapter 2: My Two Friends & My One Rival

**The Auto Biography of Kenneth McCormick**

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Chapter 2: My Two Friends & My One Rival

I think that title fits well enough. This part of my life happened when I was three, a boy was having a party and everyone in his class had been invited, luckily that included me. The boy was called Kyle Broflovski.

At the time Kyle had no friends to speak of, him having a birthday party and inviting everyone was just to see if he could find a couple of people to hang out with the following day. Even when I was three I knew this.

The party took place in Kyle's playroom, when the Broflovskis started living in this house it had three bedrooms, one of them was Kyle's playroom. At some point or another this room wouldn't be a playroom and boy would Kyle get mad.

So… there is no order to this party, some of the crazier boys ran around throwing Kyle's toys around, well the girls sat in their own corner gossiping. I decided not to get drawn into the crazy, and just find Kyle and hang with him; it was after all his birthday.

I found a table in one of the corners of the room where two boys where sitting. One of them was Kyle, his ginger hair overly styled for the big day, and the other boy had blank hair, that just looked so wavy. From the people I knew in school, this boy was Stan Marsh. They talked and laughed, from what I over heard they were talking about Scooby Doo.

I'll be honest with you, I had no idea what Scooby Doo was, sure my family had a TV but it didn't get the good stuff.

Bravely I walk over to the table and ask if I sit with them. Kyle smiles happily and allows it.

The three of us talked a bit, it was hard because I was out of the loop of shows they liked to watch, maybe at some point they'd stop talking about cartoons and the three of us could play a game, like Go Fish?

These thoughts were lost when a whiny voice shouted, getting attention from everyone in the room.

"Where the hell is the Birthday Cake?" Some of the children moved away from the speaker, and after seeing him I understood why. This boy was so big, that if he sat on you you'd need to go to the hospital. This boy was called Eric, but everyone in this room would come to call him Cartman.

Now how to put this delicately…he's a grade A douche. I mean this kid could not stop being a douche if his life depended on it.

As Cartman was a guest Kyle had to act politely, this also had nothing to do with his mother trying to drill good morals into him at an early age.

"Eric was it? When it's time for cake my mom will bring us to it, till then you could take up some time playing with some of my toys." Kyle spoke calmly and without any anger, something we'd never see again when it evolved Cartman and Kyle in the same room.

Kyle just wanted a happy birthday, was that so much to ask for?

Cartman voice didn't lower; in fact it seemed to get even louder.

"God, I hate birthday parties!" Cartman stormed out of the room, going to who knows where.

Not thinking anything of it Kyle, Stan and myself decided to play a game involving a couple of action men toys, this game was more about imagination than anything else, as I recall I got to play the bag guy.

"It's no use Doctor Evil! We have you cornered!" Stan spoke in a gruff voice, trying to sound older then he was.

"Please, one person can't beat me!" I said in happily, these were some of the first people not to laugh at me for being poor.

"Then how about two people!" Kyle joined with his other action man.

The three of us played that game for lord knows how long, we only stopped when Mrs. Broflovski came up stairs to tell everyone it was time for cake. Now for the record, I'd see the cake just as the party had begun. It was a big cake with pink frosting, and by big I mean a normal adult couldn't eat it all, which was normal because it was a cake. But it was just one of those cakes that would have fed the whole class, and still they'd be some left over.

I am going on about the cake because of the shock that set in as soon as I was down stairs.

Cartman was sitting on the table, well…more like laying? There was pink frosting smeared around his fat face; there was also some smudges on his red coat. Based on the colour of the stains, the cake was chocolate favoured.

Cartman, after leaving the room went down stairs and managed to go unnoticed by Mrs. Broflovski and eat the whole cake, not even a hand full was left of the cake. Talk about greedy.

This was the first time in my life where I realised that Cartman would do anything to get what he wanted. Boy, don't get me started on the whole Casa Bonita thing.

Now, understandably Kyle was ticked. He ran at an inhuman speed, jumped on the table and landed on top of Cartman.

"Give the cake back Fatty!" Kyle punched Cartman in the face and it appeared that he wasn't going to stop anytime soon. Ms. Broflovski went to restraint her angry child. As he pulled him away, Kyle's swinging foot connected with Cartman's stomach.

And…Cartman gave the cake back. Cartman let the chucks fly all over Kyle, for ever staining the little suit he was wearing. Don't get me started with what Cartman did to Kyle's hair.

For good reason at that moment Kyle started crying, and most of the class started laughing cruelly at him. Mrs. Broflovski asked everyone to go back to the playroom, and she dragged Cartman away to have a very serious chat.

Stan and I didn't go back to the play room. We tried to get Kyle to stop crying. Well Stan talked; I got a towel and brushed as much sick out of Kyle's hair as I could manage, not an easy task when dealing with curly hair, the sick just got stuck there.

"So you guys want to be my friends?" Kyle said well crying.

"Sure dude." Stan said happily, hoping it would raise Kyle's spirits a little.

"You seem pretty cool." I say, still not finished with the sick in his hair. Stan and I took Kyle up stairs and got him out of that suit he was wearing, Kyle ended up wearing his Spiderman themed pyjamas and we didn't think anything of it.

We entered his playroom and played like nothing happened.

At this point in my life I didn't know that these two would be my best friends, nor did I know that for some reason we'd let Cartman hang around with us.

But for now, that didn't matter.


	3. Chapter 3: My Playmate

**The Auto Biography of Kenneth McCormick**

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Chapter 3: My Playmate

Now that is a title that doesn't plain give it away.

Anyways, at this point I'm still 3 and it's been a month since Kyle's third birthday.

Kyle, Stan and me had gotten pretty tight. We mostly hung out in a group, but it wasn't unusual for me to only hang out with one at a time.

Why just last week Stan's mother had taken him and me to MacDonalds, I got to eat like a king that day. Just for the record, I don't only hang around with my friends for the food. I also hang around with them because they're funny as hell.

Boy, we got up to some crazy stuff. Nowhere near as crazy as the stuff that we got up later in life, but still kind of crazy.

I'm sorry I just realised that I'm off topic.

So today, Kyle had been given the choice to have one of his friends come along with him to the movies. Ah, that movie. Cats & Dogs, I remember it like it was yesterday.

So Kyle's first choice was Stan, but Stan had a nasty cold so I got to go.

Driving to the cinema wasn't that interesting; a couple of people getting drunk, a couple of children playing, that was it.

So what happened was this, Mrs. Broflovski bought a single giant popcorn tub, for me and Kyle to share. I remember the warm smell of the melted butter, and I felt my mouth water slightly. You couldn't blame me, I was poor. Give me the chance to have some of the food that normal people get and I'd fight for it.

So yeah, we watched Cats & Dogs without a care in the world. But then the world decided that me being care free was bad.

A random man who for the life of me I couldn't tell you a thing about grabbed me and pulled me out of my seat. I'm not kidding, it was very dark, I couldn't tell you a thing about his face, height or clothes.

So he caused a scene, letting everyone know that he had kidnaped me. No one moved to stop him, at the time I didn't know why, as I didn't know what was being pointed at my head. Now I know.

This man was holding me at gunpoint.

I didn't ask it then, but I'll say it now, why? What could you get from holding a three year old at gunpoint in a cinema? At some point I ran into this man again, he told me he wanted to be remembered for something. Dude was an idiot.

So yeah, one guy wanted to be a hero, jumped the man that was holding me. In fright the man pulled the trigger.

Pain. That was the only word, pain. It was like a shooting pain, no pun intended.

I can't really say much about it, I felt the bullet break my skin in a second. I felt blood drip form a wound in my head; I felt part of my brain fly out of my body. I felt all of that, and all I can tell you is, it hurt like hell.

I fall to the floor, dead.

"Oh my god, He killed Kenny!" Kyle shouted, frightened beyond belief.

"You meanie!" Kyle shouted again, at a later day he'd replace meanie with a more colourful word. I really hate it when those words are spoken.

After dying my world went blank. I saw a bright light; I was going up to heaven. As soon as I was there all the pain was gone, and simply being in this godly place made me feel…whole. It was like, nothing could stop me now, I was having such a good time, having a ball.

Queen lyrics aside, heaven was just perfect.

Well I was there I met a lot of angels. I was having lots of fun, simply playing video games with the angels, watching TV with them. Some of them I even called my friends. It wouldn't last however.

Soon I got sleepy, so I decided to take a nap. And when I woke up I was on my bed, back home. Back on earth.

Yeah, I was back from the dead. And boy was I scared.

I asked myself many many times if what I saw was just a dream, heaven had felt so real.

And me getting shot in the head felt real, boy I wish it didn't feel real.

I take a look at the calendar and realise it's been a day. A day since I died. This increased the chance that what had happened was a dream.

I got dressed in record time, and ran out of my house. I made a mad dash for my friend Kyle's house.

My plan was simple enough; I was just going to ask what had happened yesterday.

"Well, we went to watch Cats & Dogs, at around the halfway point you ran out of the cinema. My mother called your mother, and your mother said you had gotten home."

Kyle waved it off like nothing happened. It made no sense, didn't I die?

This drove me crazy, wondering if what had happened really happened.

It made it hard to focus on things, and before I know it I'm at preschool. Dude I'm talking about a total lapse of memory, like I have no idea for I got to preschool when last I could remember was Kyle's house.

I finally decide that that I had to die again. If I ended up back home again then something wasn't right about me, if not the first time I'd been dreaming.

I make my way to the top of the preschool building, yeah bad staff right? making it _so _easy for a child to jump off a building.

And that's what I did. I jumped off the building, felt the air push me for a couple of seconds. I didn't have a lot of time to think about it because I was dead, if you'd like to know what it felt like dying by jumping off a building, it was kind of like a popping pain. Before I was completely out, I noticed a dog took a bite out of my dead body.

Then I'm gone from this world.

I expected to go to warm clouds of heaven, but no. I'm flying towards heaven, when by angel wings burn off. You heard me, burn off, and I fell. I fell into the burning abyss.

I was going to Hell.

Then I met him, the big bad Satan himself. He explained why I was in hell, but then he got a phone call. It was an angel, that informed him that as soon as I fell asleep I'd be gone. Satan didn't look that angry, he even seemed a little happy at the fact.

"Child, well you're here would you mind being a playmate for my son? He's a nice kid, but he doesn't really have that many friends."

Satan was asking me to play with his unholy son? If it meant he wasn't going to hurt me, I'd do it.

Satan took me to his castle, it was really gran to look at. Black bricks, a grand and regal feel was just about the place.

Satan told me where his son's room was and I was off.

I walked into the room I was told to go into, and boy was I surprized. Standing before me was a boy of my age, mentally and physically

Something I noticed quickly was that he had eyebrows in the shape of lightning bolts. He also had long black wavy hair. He was wearing a purple robe with stars placed in an odd manner, it was at that point that I realised that he was playing dress up.

All by himself.

"Who are you?" He barked at me, hated in his eyes.

"I'm Kenny, want to play with me?" I ask hoping he didn't kill me…can I die well in hell?

"Oh…I'm Damien. What would you like to play?"

And that's what started one of the oddest routines in my life. Hanging out with the Anti-Christ. Every time I die I normally go to hell, and I'd hang out with Damien.

On that day we just played dress up, then we went to a park. Yeah, they have parks in hell.

I had left my snow coat back at Satan's castle because the heat in hell matched and beat the heat of California.

So, Damien and I played tag, till some demons decided to pick on the kids. They said hateful things about Damien's father, which in itself was pretty stupid. Satan banished them to the far corners of hell, and Damien cried slightly.

You know how normal kids have comfort blankets or toys? Damien had a bowie knife. Hugged it all the way back to the castle, fell asleep hugging it when naptime came around.

I started feeling really tired, and was about to doze off.

"Bye Damien. I'm going back to earth."

"Bye Kenny. Um, could you do me a favour?"

"Sure, what?"

"Could you die again on the sixth of June?"

"Why?"

"Can't say."

"Sure I'll be here on that day, I promise." I drifted off, and soon I awoke in my bed, back on earth.

I checked again, it had been another day. I smiled to myself, I couldn't die.

How I would come to loath this power.


	4. Chapter 4: Keep Watch of Dylan

**The Auto Biography of Kenneth McCormick**

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Chapter 4: Keep Watch of Dylan

So yeah, I found a way to die on the sixth day of the sixth mouth and I now realised why I needed to be in hell. It was Damien's birthday. Now that I think about it, it made plenty of sense.

He decided he just wanted to talk with me that day, talked about some demons he disliked.

Then I asked about his family.

"Well, there's my father, Satan. My mother, who I've never talked to before. And…" Damien's eyes grew blank.

"Something wrong Damien?" I muttered, interest lacing my voice.

"Um, no… but that's it. There's no one else."

Damien sounded like it was something he was told not to talk about, whatever 'it' was. Might have something to do with Satan.

But that was pretty much it, I was getting really tired and in the human world it was past midnight, so I felt it would be best to leave now.

"Kenny could you do me a favour?"

"Sure."

"Okay, there's this kid above, his names Dylan Jones. Make sure he doesn't die for eleven years."

"Eleven? What reason do I have for keeping someone alive till 2012?"

"Trust me, this is important."

If I recall I pinched the bridge of my nose at that point, I think I did it because I saw Stan do it once and picked up the habit.

"Okay, what does Dylan look like?"

"If you see a three child that's clothes screams rainbow, who also has a long black fringe of hair, that's the dude."

"Fine if I see this kid I'll keep an eye on him." So, let me explain how things work for me when I go from hell or heaven back to earth…I fall asleep. I'm only bringing this up because I was really tired and Damien was forcing me to stay up to long.

"Good…" Damien muttered as I fell into a peaceful slumber.

I was awoken from my peaceful sleep by my mother, who was telling me it was time for preschool.

I got dressed and got out of the house, stopping in front of the bus stop.

Sure, I was very young and most likely shouldn't be standing at a bus stop alone, but… who cares?

I had gotten on the bus, sat with Stan and Kyle and kind of fell asleep on the way to school.

I believe I was mostly out of it till break started. That was where I saw a child in a pick shirt, covered by white overalls, with a black hair and a fringe.

He was sitting next to a girl with bright blond hair wearing a blue dress. The two seemed to be friends, or maybe best friends.

Yeah…I never understood why Damien asked me to watch over the kid. I found out in 2012, boy was that a messed up year.

I walked over to the child I believed to Dylan, I introduced myself.

"Hey! I'm Dylan and this is Maria." Dylan smiled brightly at me, introducing himself and his friends, proving my thought about them being best friends.

"Nice to meet you." Maria smiled and waved at me.

The three of us somehow managed to end up starting and finishing a jigsaw together.

Through the weeks Dylan and Maria started to become a part of my group with Kyle and Stan.

So we were kind of a group of five now. And for some weird reason we let Cartman hang out with us, bringing the total to six. I say some reason because they was no logical reason for letting Cartman stay anywhere near us. Just ask Kyle, he'd tell you how we should have dropped him from group.

Dylan was always the happiest person in the group, followed closely by Maria.

Looking back you'd never have thought that Dylan was going to turn out to be a goth.

Well, time changes people.


End file.
